"Perfectly," she murmured. "What a beautiful party!" She placed her hand in his and moved a little closer to him, then sat listlessly, her eyes seeking the spaces between the branches where the people were. "I don't want to grow old too soon," she was saying. "The whole world is in short clothes to-night. Wouldn't it be good to be young forever?"
"Yes," he said. "It is good to be young. But isn't it anything to take your place in the world? I want you to know all a man can do for the woman he loves. Won't you let me? Soon?" He bent over her and took the rounded arm in his strong hand. She did not withdraw it, but something told him a link of sympathy was lacking in the chain. As she did not reply he straightened and sat moodily looking before him.
"Don't think me capricious, please," she began. "You're everything I can hope for--and yet----"
She paused a moment, then broke in, "Forgive me, won't you? I don't know what it is. Something has affected me strangely." She leaned against the back of the bench, rested her head in her hand, away from him, and Crabb turned jealously toward her.
"You were thinking--of him--of the other."
"Why shouldn't I be honest with you? I can't help it. Something has suddenly brought him into my mind. I was wondering----"
"I was wondering where he is now--to-night. It is so beautiful here. Everything has been done to make us happy. I was thinking that perhaps if I had written him a line I might have saved him some terrible trial. It was only a boy-and-girl affair, of course, but----"
Patricia suddenly stopped speaking, and both of them turned their heads toward the dark bank of bushes behind them.
They listened again, but all they heard was the sound of the orchestra and the voices of the dancers.
"You're teaching me a lesson in patience," Crabb began again soberly. "I can wait, of course. I'm not jealous of _him_," he said. "I was only wondering how you could think of him at all."
"I don't think of him--not in _that_ way. I believe I haven't thought of him at all--until to-night. To-night, I can't help thinking of others less fortunate than ourselves. I suppose it's only the natural thing that he should suffer. He never seemed to get things right, somehow; his point of view was always askew. He was a wild boy--but he was human."